


Drawing Blanks

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:19:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can't think of anything,” Tetsuya declares throwing his hands up in surrender. “I'm just drawing blanks, Akashi-kun.” He stares at the unblemished, white sheet that mocks him through his laptop screen. And... nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawing Blanks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Hi! So... I'm having a bit of problem coming up with anything (spelled: C-R-I-S-I-S). So I wrote about it. It's really pointless, without soul, and so cheesy, we could have a fondue with it. I'm so sorry

“I can't think of anything,” Tetsuya declares, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I'm just drawing blanks, Akashi-kun.” He stares at the unblemished, white sheet that mocks him through his laptop screen. And... nothing. He sighs, dropping his head down onto the coffee table with an audible thud.

“More tea, then, Tetsuya?” Akashi suggests from the comfort of the couch, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. Tetsuya glares at those red eyes that peer at him, inquiringly, from behind a leather-covered book the redhead's been buried behind all day. As if he needs more tea. He's been drinking tea the entire afternoon, but it hasn't helped. All that his tea-drinking has managed to accomplish is frequent bathroom breaks that leave him feeling empty, and not just in the bladder.

“No,” Tetsuya replies, pulling an empty cup towards him and staring into it, as though, at the bottom of it, lies the answer, the idea he's been looking for. But there isn't anything there, it's as dry as the well of his creativity. In that moment, Tetsuya's cursing all those times he forgot or ignored to scribble down the ideas that dropped into his head, as if from the writings gods – little gems of absolute brilliance, that were as fickle as they were beautiful. He groans, long and loud, punctuating it with a sob at the end.

Tetsuya had been invited by a well known publishing company to contribute a piece that would appear in their compilation book of short stories. It was a prestigious offer, one that Tetsuya had accepted without so much as a second thought. The deadline was three weeks away, though. Three weeks seemed like enough time, but considering that this writer's block had been up for almost two weeks now, Tetsuya was beginning to worry. Everything he'd managed to scrape together, thus far, had felt inarticulate and inadequate.

“I told you to use the study, Tetsuya,” Akashi comments, his voice is an icy and unsympathetic gong in the room.

“You're not helping, Akashi-kun.” He had tried working in Akashi's study, but it was too quiet. Working at a nearby café hadn't worked either. Even now, in one of his favourite spots – on the floor of Akashi's living room, sitting cross-legged – nothing sparked. All the places that usually inspired him or made it easier to focus grated at his last nerve. Tetsuya sighed, closing his laptop, if only to save himself from the depression that settled every time he caught a glimpse of the blank page.

“I wonder if I can decline,” Tetsuya mumbles, more to himself than his companion. Chewing absently at his bottom lip, he fails to hear Akashi's sigh and the sound of the book in the redhead's hand closing.

“Don't be ridiculous,” is the softly spoken admonishment from the redhead. “You simply need time.” Akashi places the book on the coffee table and uncrosses his legs, before standing up. “Come.” Tetsuya eyes the redhead warily, wondering what his lover is planning, but follows as Akashi leads them upstairs and into the bedroom.

“Remove your shirt and lie down on the bed,” the redhead commands as he walks into the adjoining bathroom, never turning to look at Tetsuya.

“This is hardly the time, Akashi-kun,” Tetsuya calls out after him, thinking he's figured out where this is headed. Suddenly, the redhead pokes his head out of the bathroom door to pin the shorter man with vacuous eyes.

“Do as I say.” They stare at each other for a while, until Tetsuya caves and complies, too frustrated to challenge. He sheds his shirt and lays down in the middle of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Face down, Tetsuya,” Akashi states as he makes his way towards Tetsuya, a bottle in his hand. Tetsuya rolls over to lie on his belly, head resting on his folded arms and facing the bathroom door.

“What are you going to do?”

“Help you relax.” The bed dips when Akashi gets on and crawls his way to straddle his lover. There's a popping sound before the redhead rubs his hands together and brings them to rest firmly on Tetsuya's shoulders. A massage? Tetsuya concludes as the mild scent of lavender floats around him. He opens his mouth to comment on this when Akashi presses strong, slender fingers into the bunched up muscles around the base of his neck. Instead of teasing words, a long satisfied moan escapes from his lips.

Akashi works out every tense, bunched muscle with great effectiveness. Every place the redhead touches in rendered numb, gratifyingly so, it's as though everywhere the redhead touches has been hit with a small dose of anaesthesia.

Before Tetsuya can even register the feeling of tiredness seep into his boneless body, his eyes are drooping and his breathing has deepened. Akashi continues to work at his back and neck, but with a lighter touch. Tetsuya gives a final sigh before succumbing to the slumber that beckons him like a lover he has not seen in years.

\----

 

When he awakes, he's under the covers, still shirtless and still boneless. His limbs flail a little as he tries to sit up, before he gives up and simply rolls himself to the edge of the bed. Standing up, he stretches, savouring every fulfilling cracking sound his body makes, making a mental note to ask Akashi where he learnt to do that. He shuffles into the bathroom to relieve himself – he really shouldn't have drunk that much tea.

After washing his hands and shrugging on his shirt, Tetsuya makes his way down the stairs. He isn't suddenly bombarded with amazing ideas for a story, but his head feels clearer and his emotions are more in check, calmer; he's feeling like himself.

Akashi is seated on that same couch, legs crossed as always, only this time, he's reading some business magazine. Tetsuya sits himself on the edge of the couch, before sliding himself down onto the floor and crossing his legs, Indian-style, in front of the coffee table. He opens his laptop, inhaling deeply as he gazes at the white, white sheet on the screen.

Akashi is eyeing him indiscreetly from behind the magazine. Tetsuya's fingers hover over the keys, his lips twisting as he lets the thoughts flow. He starts typing not the story but the ideas that come to mind, he'll go over every one later, seeing if there's anything there to elaborate. Akashi doesn't say anything, but Tetsuya can sense the slight smile in his red eyes - a little smug, a little proud, mostly warm.

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, thank you so much for the ALL the love you've left on my other works. I really do appreciate it. More so now that I everything I write sounds crass and lame. I'm working on something long that I hope to start posting soon and, of course, the rest of 'Game of Attraction'. I promise to pull myself together soon. Thank you all :)


End file.
